


Oh Christmas Tree

by Cecilia1204



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, F/M, Lady the cat, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 10:45:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8797804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecilia1204/pseuds/Cecilia1204
Summary: Christmas trees and cats are a volatile combination.  Sandor and Sansa's cat, Lady, enjoys her first Christmas.  A continuation of "How Sandor Became a Cat Person".





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kind-of sequel to my one-shot "How Sandor became a Cat Person". It's my contribution to Christmas Sansan. Sandor's favourite feline, Lady, makes a reappearance. Pure (purr) fluff abounds.

“Right there, honey.  Yes, that’s perfect.”

 

Sandor gave a soft grunt as he lowered the ridiculously bushy Christmas tree into its holder.  There was only he and Sansa living here, so he didn’t know why the fuck she needed to get, in her words, ‘the most perfect tree, ever’, which meant spending hours trudging through snow at the Christmas tree farm while she dismissed tree after tree until, just when he thought his balls were going to fall off and shatter, she would squeal as she announced that ‘that tree’ was the perfect one.

 

Then he would have to strap it to his pick-up truck, tricky while wearing gloves, getting scratched and swallowing fuck-knows how many pine needles, until by the time he got the damned thing home, he was completely over Christmas already.  He would be quite happy to forget the whole thing and take his wife somewhere warm for the holidays.

 

Not that his Little Bird would let him do that.  When he suggested it last year, Sansa had given him ‘that’ look that said that if such an idea was brought up again, he’d be sleeping in Stranger’s kennel outside, or at his friend, Bronn’s, place.

 

There was no way Sandor would give up sleeping next to his Little Bird, so that idea was pushed away to the realm of fantasy.  For him, anyway.

 

Sansa Clegane loved everything about Christmas.  The decorations, the songs, the food, even the shopping.  She would make her list months in advance and would trawl through magazines and cooking shows looking for some new Christmas treat to cook that she could take to her parents’ house, where they would spend the day with the extended family. 

 

The month of December was spent road-testing her recipes and Sandor had to make a concerted effort to do extra work-outs just to keep the flab away as he was the main beneficiary of his wife’s culinary efforts.   Stranger, their dog, also benefitted to some extent. 

 

This year, Lady, their cat, would enjoy the fruits of her first Christmas, though Sandor doubted she would enjoy it as much as Stranger did, unless it involved cream.  Or tuna.  That cat was a fiend for tuna.

 

Today was the first day of December, the day Sansa decreed was the ‘official start’ of the fun.  Today was the day the tree was picked and decorated, assisted by multiple glasses of Sansa’s eggnog, which she generously spiked with bourbon so that by the time the tree was finished, they were both happily tipsy, usually leading to some serious sexy times under the tree.

 

There were _some_ compensations to the whole bloody thing, he supposed.

 

“Look at Lady, Sandor.  She doesn’t know what’s going on,” giggled Sansa as she watched the silver cat tread warily towards the strange tree in her house.  Her ears were pricked forward, pupils wide as she sniffed, whiskers twitching crazily, trying to work out if it was safe to get near.

 

“Bet you the little shit will try to climb it,” declared Sandor. 

 

“No, she’s a good girl,” cooed Sansa. 

“Are we talking about the same cat?  She’s a little monster.”

 

Sansa slapped Sandor’s arm.  “Don’t call her that!  She’s the most beautiful cat that ever existed.  And you love her to bits.  Don’t deny it.”

 

Sandor’s face reddened slightly and turned away to hide it.  “Hmm, whatever.”  Sansa just laughed. 

 

They both knew that for someone who had never particularly cared for cats, Sandor was smitten by the furball.  As Lady was smitten by him. 

 

It had been that way almost since the day they found her as a tiny kitten in Sandor’s truck, on a freezing night last January.  Though he would deny it until the cows came home, Sandor couldn’t imagine their home without her. 

 

Stranger, their dog, certainly couldn’t.  He was a slave to the cat’s wishes and they were often found curled up together in perfect contentment.  They slept in the same bed every night.

 

“Let’s just get the decorations, and get this done, Little Bird.  There’s a game I want to watch later,” he stated gruffly.

 

Sansa looked at her husband with a soft smile.  “You get the decorations from the attic, while I get the eggnog.  Who knows?  There might be better things to do than watch a game after we finish?” she suggested sexily.

 

Sandor’s pulse accelerated instantly at his wife’s unspoken promise.  Without another word, he turned and headed towards the attic, Stranger at his heels, Sansa’s chuckle ringing in his ears.

 

He didn’t particularly care.  If it meant getting some loving from Sansa, he’d jump through hoops.

 

It took three trips to get all the boxes down to the lounge room.  “Fuck, Little Bird.  I swear these things are mating and multiplying up there.  I swear we didn’t have this much stuff last year.”

 

“Sure we did, silly,” replied Sansa, bending over to open the first box.  It was filled with baubles of all colours.  The second was filled with tinsel and lights.  Endless lights.  Sansa liked to put lights everywhere.  The third box contained garlands and knick-knacks that she put all over the place.  Little Santas, reindeer, angels.  All that Christmas shit. 

 

Sandor sighed.  This was going to take a while.  He hoped the little bird wasn’t too tired to keep her unspoken promise.  Or that he wasn’t too tired, either.

 

As usual, Sansa organised the decorating with military precision.  She should have been in his regiment – there’d be no slacking with her in charge.  Then again, he’d be walking around with a permanent hard-on if he could only look and not touch, so it was a good thing.

 

While she decorated the tree, Sandor was to affix the lights to the areas she indicated, as well as set up the Christmas statues outside.  It was too late to put up lights outside, thank fuck, though that would be tomorrow.

 

All the activity in the house was like an adventure for Lady.  There was so much to play with!   Stranger, having seen it all before, lay down in front of the fireplace and supervised the proceedings with a lazy eye.

 

As Sandor pulled the lights, Lady would chase the bulbs, stalking and pouncing on them, so that he’d have to pull harder, only to have her pounce on the next one.

 

The sound of tinkling in the other room perked the cat’s ears up and she raced off to investigate, much to his relief.  Taking advantage of the respite, Sandor worked steadily, until he heard “Lady!”

 

Creeping to the door, he looked inside and had to bite his lip to stop laughing. 

 

Lady had jumped into the box of tinsel, attacking it with gusto, sparkly glitter flying everywhere.  Sansa was trying to get the tinsel away from her but the cat would grab on and bite it harder, threatening to de-nude the whole thing.

 

The cat then spotted something else, and raced like a demented thing to the baubles that Sansa had sorted out, scattering them everywhere, while chasing as many as she possibly could.

 

“Lady, you naughty thing!  I had those all sorted into colours, now look what you’ve done.”  Lady, too busy trying to kill a blue bauble, paid no attention whatsoever.  “Keep this up and I’ll have to banish you to the bedroom.”

 

The cat’s response was to jump back into the tinsel box, the whole thing shaking violently before toppling over, Lady racing out of the room like her tail was on fire.

 

Sandor couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.  Sansa’s frustrated face kept him in paroxysms of laughter.  “It’s not funny, Sandor.  I had them all sorted out so that I can make sure the colours are all spread around evenly, and now look.  I don’t even know where some of them went.”

 

“Little Bird, that is the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.  And you said she wasn’t a monster.”  He gave her a hug and kiss, loving the feel of her in his arms.  “Better get back to the lights.  Who knows where that little devil is now.”

 

Sansa chuckled at last as she poured them another drink.  “She’s a very cute monster, I’ll grant you that.”  With another soft kiss, she got back to decorating the tree.

 

Sure enough, when he got back to the lights, Lady was wrapped up in them, paws in the air as she rolled back and forth. 

 

“Get out of it, you little shit,” he growled softly, a smile on his face. 

 

“Meow.”

 

“Yes, go annoy your mother, but not too much.  I’m on a promise tonight, so I don’t want this to drag on all night, okay?”

 

“Meow.”

 

As he spoke, he gently untangled the cat, who then stood up on her back legs, wanting a cuddle.  Checking Sansa was busy, he picked up Lady and cuddled her soft body close, her loud purrs ringing in his ears.  With a swift kiss on her head, he put her down and pushed her towards the lounge room.  “Go on.”

 

Lady took a couple of steps away until the sound of further tinkling made her break out into an excited run, leaving Sandor alone to finish his task.

 

Several hours later, amidst quite a bit of muttering and cursing from the both of them, the tree and the house was decorated to Sansa’s approval.

 

Turning on the Christmas tree lights with a flourish, Sansa sat down on Sandor’s lap, clinking her glass against his and downing the eggnog in one go.

 

“Whoa, Little Bird.  How many have you had tonight?” he asked with a smirk.

 

“Enough to make me feel really, really horny,” she replied huskily, wriggling suggestively.

 

Sandor’s member stood to attention instantly.  Gulping down the last of his eggnog, he proceeded to collect his reward for all his hard work. 

 

Luckily for both of them, Lady had worn herself out and barely twitched a whisker when they cried out in their ardour.

 

Yes, there were _some_ compensations, figured Sandor.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

It only took a couple of days before Lady realised that those shiny, dangling balls were there for her entertainment.  The shinier, the better.  And there was nothing more fun than batting it off the tree and then chasing it around the room or, even better, down the corridor.

 

That fluffy, shiny stuff that was wrapped around the tree was really a snake in disguise and, as the resident protector of the house - Stranger didn’t count – it was up to her to wrestle it down and kill it.

 

At first it was only the lower balls and tinsel that got attacked but Lady saw that her work was cut out for her as they stretched all the way to the top.

 

There was nothing for it but to climb up and destroy them.  It was her duty.

 

Throughout the weeks before Christmas, Sansa’s voice crying out “Lady!” was a regular occurrence in the Clegane household. 

 

Sansa’s precious tree, once ready to rival the fanciest trees found in shops and hotels, was looking rather worse for wear.

 

Where she had painstakingly sought to mix up the colours so that it looked like a perfect rainbow, it now had patches of empty branches, colours haphazardly hung where ever there was room and the lights, once artfully spread around, now looked like a hooker after a busy night.

 

At first, Sansa would scold Lady, who gave her a look of utter boredom, and put the damage to rights.  After several days of this, the repair job became shoddier and shoddier, resigned to the fact that the monster cat would just come back to continue her war on the tree.

 

Sandor, unbeknownst to his wife, would take video of Lady climbing into the tree, pushing the baubles off with determination, chewing and pulling on the lights.  He found it hysterical. 

 

Sansa roused on him to tell off the cat, but he found it too amusing to sound at all threatening.

 

Then it happened.

 

A week before Christmas and Sansa was deep in the throes of Christmas preparations.  The spare bedroom was overflowing with gifts that were to be wrapped and the house smelled of Christmas cake that Sansa was testing. 

 

Sandor was in the process of hiding his gift to his wife when there was the sound of an almighty crash, accompanied by the tinkling of objects hitting the floor.

 

“You alright, Little Bird?” he yelled as he raced towards the sound.  He was passed in the hallway by Lady running like a bat out of hell, ears pricked back in alarm.  He heard Stranger whine and his heart raced.  “Little Bird?”

 

“LADY!  LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”

 

Practically skidding to a stop inside the lounge room, Sandor’s mouth dropped open at the sight before him.

 

The lounge room looked like an atom bomb had exploded in it.

 

The main focus for the eyes was the once proud pine tree, lovingly decorated for the season, lying in a mass of branches, twisted ornaments, lights and tinsel on the floor.

 

“Fuck!”

 

Lady had obviously climbed a step too far and had brought down the whole tree, with her in it.

 

“It’s ruined!  Totally ruined!” cried a tearful Sansa.

 

Not liking to see his little bird upset, he took her in his arms and held her close.  “Shh, Little Bird.  It’s only a tree.  We can fix it.”

 

Sansa buried her head in his massive chest.  “Lady will only do it again.  It’s a toy to her.  It’s not her fault.”

 

Knowing how much Sansa treasured her Christmas decorations and traditions, Sandor was amazed at how she didn’t seem angry at the cat.

 

“Told you she was a little monster.”

 

Sansa chuckled weakly.  “Yes, you were right.  She is a little monster, but she’s our little monster.”

 

They stood silently for a few moments, surveying the carnage.

 

“I wish I’d seen her face as the tree started to come down,” chuckled Sandor. 

 

Sansa giggled at the thought.  “I can imagine.  She’ll probably hide for a while now until the trauma subsides.”

 

“Self-inflicted trauma,” pointed out Sandor.  “Serves the little shit right.”

 

Stranger pushed his nose into their legs, getting a pat on the head.  “Why didn’t you stop her, hmm?” asked Sandor, looking at the contrite dog.  “I know why.  Because she’s got you by the balls, doesn’t she?”  The dog looked up at him, as if agreeing with him.  “I know how it feels.”

 

He got a slap on his behind for his words.  “You love it.”

 

“Yeah, Little Bird.  I do.”  Kissing the top of her head, he pushed her back.  “Let’s set this to rights.  Until the next time.”

 

“Maybe we should just put it away,” suggested Sansa.  “It’s looking really worse for wear and I think half my baubles are dented.”

 

“But you love your tree,” protested Sandor.

 

“There’s always next year.  Lady will be older and hopefully, wiser.”

 

“You hope.”

 

“Yeah, I hope,” she chuckled.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

On Christmas Eve, after a delicious meal that Sansa had cooked, they sat cuddled together in the lounge room, sipping some more eggnog and enjoying the quiet before the craziness of Sansa’s extended family the following day.

 

Above the mantel, was a picture of a perfect Christmas tree that Sandor had found and printed.  Sansa had laughed when he presented it to her.

 

Sandor took another sip of the eggnog.  “Did you put bourbon in this, Little Bird?”

 

Sansa nodded.  “Just a little bit.”

 

“Why?  You don’t usually hold back.”

 

Taking his glass, she put them both on the coffee table before taking his hand. 

 

“I might not have a pretty Christmas tree for a long time.”

 

Sandor looked at his wife in puzzlement.  “What?”

 

In answer, she pulled on his hand until it rested on her belly.  “Not next Christmas, although Lady will most likely fill in, but our baby will probably enjoy making a mess of my tree.”

 

Breath hitching, Sandor stared gormlessly at his wife, her words not really sinking in.  “Huh?”

 

Sansa chuckled and pressed his hand tighter to her stomach.  “Merry Christmas, my love.  You’re going to have a pup of your own next year – to add to our furred babies.”

 

Tears welling in his eyes, he scooped up his beloved Little Bird onto his lap and kissed her with all the love he felt in his heart.   
  
“A baby?  Our own pup?”

 

Tears of happiness flowing from her eyes, Sansa nodded.

 

Holding his whole world in his arms, Sandor saw that Stranger and Lady had curled up together as usual and smiled, his heart full.

 

And he realised that Christmas really was the best time of the year.

 

 

                

My little monster, Elsa, and the inspiration for this story, though she hasn't knocked down the tree - yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be working on the next chapter of "A Mercenary Romance" now that I have a bit more time free of Christmas preparations and hope to update by the end of the week.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as: queenoferebor1204


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